You know these things as thoughts, but your thoughts are not your experiences, they are an echo and after-effect of your experiences: as when your room trembles when a carriage goes past. I however am sitting in the carriage, and often I am the carriage itself. In a man who thinks like this, the dichotomy between thinking and feeling, intellect and passion, has really disappeared. He feels his thoughts. He can fall in love with an idea. An idea can make him ill.— Friedrich Nietzsche, from Thus Spoke Zarathustra (via violentwavesofemotion)
Accidents in these mountains are less common than in the lowlands, and these mountain mansions are decent, delightful, even divine, places to die in, compared with the doleful chambers of civilization. Few places in this world are more dangerous than home.
Fear not, therefore, to try the mountain-passes.
They will kill care, save you from deadly apathy, set you free, and call forth every faculty into vigorous, enthusiastic action.
I won’t be sad too often,
If they bury me in the library
With bookworms in my coffin.